The Hunter and the Hunted
by Angelique Daemon
Summary: When the line between hunter and prey blurs, who can tell who's the winner? Well, who's MORE of a winner, anyway. It will undoubtedly lead to an interesting future, though.


**Author's note: **Since I seem to be intent on fleshing this out as far as I can, here's a fun little 'it all started...' fluff fic for Zevran and my Dalish Warden. Obviously this would come before 'What NOT to Say'.

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><p>Zevran knew from the moment he woke up, and saw that amused face, made alien by the green lines inked into her skin, and framed by silver hair, that he was going to like the woman standing over him. Her casual comment about torturing him, while wearing the same amused, mischievous expression just cemented it for him. If she was teasing and cracking jokes with an assassin tied up at her feet, then Zilfayirin was certainly a person worth knowing.<p>

She was a flirt too... of course, he had a tendency to see flirting where there might not be any simply because he himself was an incorrigible flirt... and he had strange turn ons. Still, he was fairly certain that she _was _indeed making passes at him with her comments on what uses she could think of for a handsome elf. Alistair, the other Grey Warden had made the mistake of asking her, sourly, what uses she could think of for someone that had been sent to kill her. She had grinned toothily at him and replied, "Well _after_ beating him into unconsciousness to show him the error of his ways, and tying him up to prevent him from trying again, I'd question him, and depending on his answers keep him around," she raised a brow, "Or water the grass with his blood, and leave his corpse for the..." she grinned, the fire reflecting disconcertingly in her jade green eyes, "crows. They go for the eyes first, you know."

The ex-templar had wrinkled his nose, "You're being creepy on purpose," he had accused.

"Yes... but as for the uses should his answer please me, assuming that I was not having to unite the countryside against an archdemon, and I was home instead," she had quirked a brow playfully, "I think I'd keep him tied up in my _aravel_, and pull him out when I got bored."

The human's ears had started turning red, "I... don't think I want to hear this," he said.

"Oh, but I'm _just_ getting started!" she had announced with a laugh, "First of all, I should note that I'd leave him naked, so I wouldn't have to worry about getting clothing off around ropes..."

The warrior had clapped his hands over his ears, "La la la la la la, I'm not listening!"

She had thrown her head back and laughed then. It was not the soft, genteel laugh of well-bred ladies, or cultured courtesans, it was loud and honest, rich and infectious, so even the people trying to disapprove of her teasing were having trouble not smiling... except Sten, but his face probably would have shattered if he tried to smile.

The flirting had continued, with such subtle signs as her idly coiling the rope from her tent, and then shooting him thoughtful looks. It was both amusing and infuriating. When they spoke, she niggled information from him that he had not intended to share, and then ended their conversations with a knowing grin, and occasionally a wink. She knew what she was doing to him, and she was doing it on purpose, the vixen, and what made it worse was that any time he decided to blatantly proposition her, she managed to slip out of the conversation before he had the chance. _Maddening_! _Deliciously_ maddening, but maddening all the same. After a month of the torture, he decided that enough was enough.

They stopped near a river, Zilfayirin's Dalish senses apparently having tingled and lead to its discovery... or some such. In any event, the Warden in question was working on her sword, frowning slightly in concentration as she honed it to a razor edge. As she worked, Leliana approached the fire, carrying a bucket of bathing things, "We're going to the river," she announced, "Why not leave that until later, and come with us to get cleaned up?" Zevran looked up from his own weapon maintenance to notice that Morrigan was already heading off in the direction of the river.

"Because if I leave it until later, I'll get oil and metal shavings all over my clean self," the Warden had replied without looking up, "besides, taking care of my weapons and armor comes before taking care of myself, because without them, there wouldn't be much of a me to be taken care of," she shot a grin over at Sten when the qunari grunted softly in approval.

The bard frowned, "Well surely you're not suggesting you go alone," she protested, "Especially not when they've sent people to kill you once."

"I'll go with the men," was the flippant reply, which seemed to shock not only the redhead, but Alistair as well.

The ex-templar had been taking a pull from his water skin when his fellow Warden made her announcement, and promptly spit out about half of it, and choked on the other half. "What?" he demanded when he could finally speak again.

The elven woman simply raised a brow, "What, what?" she asked and turned her attention back down to her work, "If I'm not allowed to go alone, and I'm not going with the women, that leaves going with you, right?"

"I hardly think that's appropriate," Wynne started to put in her two cents.

"Oh you _shemlen_," she cut the mage off, and sighed, "I have been bathing with members of the opposite gender for about as long as I can remember. Children are raised communally among the Dalish, you know, and it's easier to throw all the kids in the river at once than to try to segregate them by sex." She held up her sword and checked the edge in the firelight, "So unless someone is sporting tentacles, I assure you none of you have anything I haven't seen before, and I'm not modest."

"But what if _I_ am?" Alistair wailed.

She shot him a wicked grin and winked, "Then I'll keep my eyes closed," she purred, "Of course, then you'll have to keep an eye on me to make sure nothing attacks me _while_ my eyes are closed..." she added, tapping her chin in mock-thoughtfulness.

Zevran saw his opportunity as the ex-templar sputtered, and took it, "Perhaps _I_ could be of assistance," he offered cheerfully, as several pairs of eyes turned to him, "I am unsure of how long my tasks will take, so I will likely miss a chance to bathe with the others. It will not hurt me to wait for the Warden, that way no one need worry about anyone going alone and being attacked by assassins," he smiled at the disbelieving stares he got... and his smile widened when he noticed the grin hidden among them.

"There are two things wrong with what you just said," Alistair told him firmly, "and _both_ of them are all of it."

"How do you figure?" Zilfayirin asked, "It makes perfect sense to me. I mean, who better to spot other assassins than him, and furthermore I wouldn't have to worry about him being too squeamish to keep watch properly."

"I don't think you understand the nature of the protest," Wynne tried to say before being cut off by the other Warden.

"He'd be too busy staring at _you_ to pay attention!" the warrior protested, "And let's not forget that he _did_ try to _kill_ you!"

"Oh, are you _still_ on about that?" the silver-haired elf asked with a sigh.

"What do you mean 'am I still on about that'? _Of course_ I am! He tried to _murder_ you... _for money_!"

She shook her head, and then looked over at the Crow, "Zevran, are you going to try to kill me as soon as you get me alone?" she asked, humor still shining in her eyes.

The blonde elf sat up straight, and raised his right hand, "I solemnly swear, upon my honor as a sneaky, untrustworthy bastard that assassinating you is the furthest thing from my mind."

Somehow Alistair had sensed the innuendo in that statement, and frowned, "Then what _is_ on your mind?" he asked suspiciously.

"Bathing with a pretty, lithe, naked woman?" Zilfayirin suggested innocently, and then grinned as her fellow Warden blushed brilliantly. "Leave it alone, Alistair. I promise if he starts assassinating me, I'll scream as loud as I can, and kick him in the fork. Satisfied?"

The blushing warrior shook his head, "No!"

"Good enough!" she replied and got back to work on her sword, forestalling further protest by pointedly humming a merry little tune to herself, and ignoring everyone until they gave up and walked away. Ah, childishness could be so very effective when used correctly.

By the time everyone else was done with their bathing, Zilfayirin had finally finished her weapon maintenance, both dagger and sword sharp enough to cut the grass near the fire with a flick of her wrist, and her bowstring carefully waxed. Satisfied that everything had been properly cared for, she stood, stretched, and then headed to her tent to gather her things so she could bathe. Zevran watched her, and then put away his own weapons, and did the same, doing his best to avoid the others... which was not to say he did not shoot a triumphant, and very _suggestive_ grin at Alistair before ducking into his tent. When he emerged, the other elf was waiting for him, and shot him a wink before heading off.

Unfortunately, he had to dodge a wide variety of people who wanted to threaten him, so it took him longer to get to the river than it had taken her. When he finally arrived, he looked around... but saw no sign of her. A scowl tugged at the corners of his mouth. There was no sign of a scuffle, and he had not heard anything, so if nothing else, he was sure that she had not been ambushed and dragged away... though it would have served the others right if their delaying him had led to her being injured... but then they would likely blame that on him away, even though it was their own fault.

He was startled out of his annoyance by a pair of arms sliding around his waist, and the tip of a tongue sliding up the shell of his ear. Well, _that_ was certainly a nice surprise, though his instincts had him turn his head to be sure of his captor. Zilfayirin smirked at him, her eyes narrowing in amusement, "We're going to have sex," she murmured against his ear, "and I'm not taking no for an answer..." her smirk widened, "So you damn well better not be all talk."

That was music to the Crow's ears, and he suppressed a shiver when she took the tip of his ear in her mouth and began to suck lightly at it, "Your wish is my command, my Warden," he purred as he gently pulled away, and turned around... To find himself grabbed by his shoulders, forcibly backed up against a tree, and then assaulted. It was the _best_ kind of assault though, all teeth and tongue, need and burning desire. He quickly wrapped his arms around her, one hand sliding up to the back of her head to tangle in her starlight tresses, while the other plunged down to take a firm hold of her rear so he could pull her mostly naked body flush against his. He wished he had thought to remove his armor in advance, because he would have loved to feel her body against his, and even if it was light armor, the leather still got horribly in the way.

As it turned out, he need not have worried about it for long. The wonderful thing about rogues was that they had _very_ nimble fingers, and even as he held her to him, she managed to unbuckle and unclasp most of the fastenings on his armor. She pulled away, making a soft, not displeased noise at the way the hand in her hair tugged, and quickly pulled off the pieces of his armor that could be removed without him releasing her.

He finally bowed to necessity and released his grip on her hair so the rest of his armor could be taken off, and then gleefully got to work on removing her small clothes, his hands and mouth quickly exploring the exposed skin. To his utter joy, it turned out that she was not only quite physical herself, she was also quite... vocal. It pleased the exhibitionist in him to no end to hear her moan loudly, and it spurred him on to draw as many sounds out of her as he could. Deep down, he almost wished her pleasured noises would draw the others, it would be more than a little amusing... but they would not be a particularly appreciative audience, and he somehow doubted the two warriors would be inclined to pause to determine if he was hurting her or not.

Some time later, for Zevran had certainly lost track, they lay on the grass, both elves panting heavily to try to catch their breath. That had been... _fantastic_! He was reasonably sure that he was going to have marks on his shoulders and back from her nails, as well as a few marks from her teeth on his neck, and he was perfectly happy about it. He, however, had been careful about what marks he left on her, making sure that they would be in places covered by her armor. The last thing he wanted to deal with was the others accusing him of hurting her, and he somehow doubted his defense of '_She did not complain, and seemed to rather enjoy it at the time_,' would make them go away.

He hummed in pleasure, his thoughts scattering as he felt her lips and teeth move along a collarbone, sucking and nibbling most pleasantly at his skin. Still, as much as he hated to do it, he lifted his hands and took her by her upper arms, "I am just a mortal man, my Warden," he said with a quiet chuckle, "If I did not know better, I would think that _you_ are trying to kill _me_!"

Zilfayirin laughed as she lifted her head, and then sat up, still on top of him after their last round, "Mm, but what a way to go, huh?" she asked, "Think of the story you could tell others as you traveled through the Beyond," she stretched as she spoke, making the assassin _dearly_ wish he was not as tired as he was. She looked down at him and smirked, "And now that we're done getting dirty, I'm going to get clean," she raised her brows, "_Do_ join me when you remember how to use your legs," she teased before getting up, and heading down to the water, snatching up the bucket of toiletries along the way.

Zevran pushed himself up on his elbows so he could watch her bathe, because he was _tired_ not _dead_, and there was a _big_ difference between the two states. The water made her pale skin shimmer in the moonlight, and made it all the more tragic that his poor flesh was too weak to back up his willing spirit. He watched with interest as she scrubbed herself down thoroughly with few wasted movements... and he had to grin when her solution to how to scrub her legs and feet in water was to simply lift one straight over her head, clean it, and then switch. Oh he _had_ enjoyed her flexibility... and he wondered if he had as many leaves and twigs in his hair as she did in hers... probably.

After a few minutes of simply watching, the Crow forced himself to his feet, and joined her in the river. She shot him a smile, and promptly turned her back to him, and held the wash rag over his shoulder. He could not help but laugh, "Would you really turn your back on an assassin?" he teased as he walked over, and took the rag.

"After checking him so thoroughly for weapons?" she quipped, "Of course."

He chuckled as he started scrubbing her back, "So that was all it was?" he teased, still enjoying running his hands over her surprisingly smooth, soft skin.

"Well what else would it have been?" she asked, her smile clear in her voice, "Do you really think I would have let my guard down enough to bathe with you here before making sure you were unarmed?"

"Truly your clan has _fascinating_ ways if that is how you check someone for weapons."

She laughed and spun around to catch his face in her hands, and kissed him enthusiastically. When she pulled away a moment later, she smiled brightly, "Oh I _like_ you Zevran, you're _fun_!"

He chuckled, a bit perplexed by her actions and reactions. He had not had a lover that laughed quite so much so soon after the act... nor had they been as energetic as Zilfayirin. He was beginning to wonder if he had lost his touch, or if he had simply met his match. The latter option was by far the more intriguing, and less emasculating, so he fervently hoped it was that one. Still, he had a reputation to maintain, even if no one was around to see it. He smirked, "See? I knew this would happen eventually. I should have warned you right from the moment you refused to kill me. It was inevitable."

"Yes it was," she agreed to his surprise, and playfully wrinkled her nose at him, "and it's _just_ what you deserve, you horrible tempter."

He laughed, "It takes one to know one, I'm sure," he replied and tilted his head, "So then, as the priestess so famously said to the handsome actor: What now?"

In the process of washing her hair now, she paused, and set her head to one side, her brows drawn together, the expression similar to the one her mabari wore when he was perplexed, "I don't understand," she said honestly, "What do you mean, what now?"

It occurred to Zevran that she was _truly_ perplexed, and not in fact teasing him. "Allow me to make it simple for you, my Grey Warden. What comes next is entirely up to you. I was raised to take my pleasures where they could be found, for they do not come very often. I shall ask nothing more of you than you are willing to give."

She seemed to have developed a real knack for surprising him, because the bright smile that crossed her face was not what he was expecting, "Perfect," she said, and finished scrubbing her hair, "that's exactly what I was hoping for." She stepped back further in the water and bent back to rinse her hair, "I'm glad I decided to attack you then. I was getting tired of just teasing, and waiting for you to take the bait."

That gave him pause, and he frowned slightly, "Wait... are you saying that this was _your_ plan all along?" he asked, not sure if he was more amused or annoyed by the fact that she had been driving him mad for weeks while also dodging him at every turn.

"Yes of course," she replied cheerfully as she finished rinsing her hair and stood up, "The best hunters make themselves look like the hunted, in order to lead their prey into the perfect ambush," she winked, "and I'm a _very_ good hunter, Zevran."

He... could not tell if she was being serious or bluffing, but ultimately decided it did not matter. "So you were just... running me to exhaustion before moving in for the kill?" he asked, unable to keep from laughing.

"Exactly," she chuckled as she walked up to him and plucked the rag from his hand, and then turned him around so she could scrub his back for him, "That's also a very important part of the process. Now that I've got you though, I should tell you that I expect you to have more energy in the future."

He laughed, "You know, you're the first person to ever complain..."

"Well... to be fair we _were _killing darkspawn all day, so I'll take that into consideration," she teased, "but that excuse won't work forever..." she leaned up and kissed the tip of his ear, "I _do_ hope you know that I'm not being serious," she murmured, "It was fantastic, and I look forward to spending _many _an evening thus in the future."

He chuckled, "Yes, I had figured that was the case... and I _will_ endeavor to save my energy for you," he smirked, "After all, leaving you dissatisfied is surely some kind of sin."

"Surely," she agreed as she finished scrubbing his back and held the rag out for him to take, "So make sure you don't ever do it." She stepped away once he took the rag, and then walked around him, getting out of the water, "Hm... I wonder how they'll react if I tell them all the noise was from me killing you..." she picked up her towel and wrapped it around herself, "I bet I could get Alistair to believe me..." she chuckled at the thought of tricking her fellow Warden, and gathered up her stuff before heading back to camp.

Zevran watched her go and felt... a deep sense of satisfaction. He had the distinct feeling that he was going to enjoy this journey _far_ more than he had first thought.


End file.
